Bye, Bye, Bella
by Halfelven hero
Summary: Bella is off to be changed, and now, the small town of Forks must deal with a double funeral for the newlywed couple.
1. Prologue: Taking Chances

_**Prologue:**_

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_**I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Gilda Radner**_

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"Charlie… I'm so sorry," I carefully wrapped my arms around him, and let him cry. Was this the same, cocky Chief Swan that bashed out my taillight a few years ago? "You know," I told him, "the kids aren't really dead… they're gone forever, but they aren't dead. You have to believe that, Charlie."

"Yeah, yeah, Father Clark talked to me, too." he replied.

_._

_._

_._

_._

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_._

"Tower to C599, you are clear for takeoff; approach the runway."

It was time to leave Forks at last. I was finally Mrs. Isabella Cullen, and within a few hours, I would cease to live. Well, at least in a traditional sense. You know what I mean… Well, technically, Isabella Marie Cullen would cease to live in about twenty minutes. Edward and I were seeing to that.

After spending hours and hours trying to persuade Charlie that this would be the fastest way, and a few more hours persuading him that Carlisle (who was "flying" the plane, as far as Charlie knew, anyway) was a fully licensed pilot; I was heading off to my new life. I tried not to cry when I said goodbye to Charlie. It was so hard, knowing that I would never see him again… or Renee… or Phil … or Angela … and the list stretched on and on. I was leaving everything behind.

But not everything, I had to remind myself. I was keeping the most important thing in the world.

"Copy that, Esme," he had the voice of a god… that still made me swoon whenever he spoke.

"Good luck, sweethearts," Esme's voice crackled over the radio, as the plane started to pick up speed. She sounded concerned. "Bella, make sure that parachute is on tight. Rosie and Carlisle are waiting, just at the place we showed you. Be safe … and I love you two!!"

"We'll see you soon, Esme," Edward replied, keeping his voice straight through his mother's emotion. Edward eased the plane into the air, and we were off. I looked behind and saw Charlie waving. For the first time during all of this, I broke down and cried. I hoped Edward wouldn't notice.

But he did, of course. He wrapped one arm around my shoulder, and kept the other on the steering-wheel thingy. "Bella, love. We don't have to do this, you know."

"You promised," I snapped at him, wiping the tears away from my eyes.

"Alright, then." Edward sounded resigned, but I saw a faint glimmer in his golden eyes. He took his hand off my shoulder.

Flying was such a sensation, especially with Edward in the pilot's seat. He flew like he drove, putting Chuck Yeager to shame. Woot! I remembered something from history class.

Sometimes, I swear that I'm so happy that Edward can't read my mind and see what a ditz. He'd probably rip his gorgeous ring off my finger.

Thank goodness I was safe.

"Bella, love," Edward said, concern flooding his granite features, "I'm going to pitch the plane down. Get your parachute ready." I snapped the buckles and pulled them tight.

He nodded. "I'm going to get on the radio as we're going down, try to provide some, ah, ambiance noise."

"Okay." I was starting to get really nervous.

"Get ready to kick out your door." His voice sounded like this, jumping out of airplanes, was a common, everyday occurrence. I nodded.

He curled his right hand into a fist, and sent it through one of the control panels. It broke easily, revealing a mess of wires. He stomped down, hard, sending his foot through the floor.

"Take off your headset and wait for my word!" Finally, he was sounding just a teensy bit concerned about this operation. I obediently took off the headset, and hung it on the little hook.

He flipped a little switch on his headset. "Mayday, mayday, can anybody hear me? Anybody, anybody?"

He nodded at me, and I screamed like a banshee having an acid trip. I hope that was the ambiance he wanted. I'm not sure how I was able to scream that loud; I sounded worse than a hired mourner.

"Mayday! I'm flying an utter piece of rubbish, a Cessna 599 somewhere over British Columbia. We're going down… We're going down… too fast, too fast." He looked at me and hissed, "Get out of here!" under his breath.

I kicked the door and jumped, while Edward went with the plane.

So here I was, free-falling over Canada, screaming at the top of my lungs. Luckily, I had the parachute. Even luckier, it worked.

I fell slowly; by the time I was down, Edward had crashed the plane into a thick hedge of trees, which was eagerly burning, and was waiting with me with open arms. I landed with a thud in his hard arms. I would probably have bruises. Edward kissed me gently on the lips, and set me down on the ground.

"Welcome to Canada, lovebirds," It was Rose, waiting with the Jeep. She was wearing oversized sunglasses, perched slightly down her nose for effect, and a double-breasted black overcoat; looking like the average gorgeous FBI agent in almost every single action movie. "Edward, get that thing off her, while I called the Mounties. Then, we're out of here. Carlisle awaits, dahhh-ling," she added with a smirk.

Edward unbuckled the parachute from my chest, as 'Agent Rose Hale, FBI,' called the Canadians to report the crash, describing her heroic efforts to pull the 'victims out of the horrible, burning wreck'.

As soon as she hung up, we were off. We were on a highway headed west, pulling 120 miles an hour, when I asked, "Where's Carlisle waiting?"

Edward, who was sitting next to me in back seat, replied, "Somewhere north of Montreal. Give that man a reason to practice his French and…"

"This is going to be fun," Rose laughed and gunned the engine.

**AN: Anything non-canon, non-sequitor, not spelled right, or anything, let me know. More coming soon.  
Also, those of you who are curious, I picture Rose's outfit like the outfit Celine Dion wore in the music video for "Taking Chances" -- I'll provide a URL to a picture if I can find one ;)**


	2. The Relative Calm Before The Storm

**AN: Esme's POV**

"Hey! How much did you spend on that?" Alice's voice reflected curiosity rather than reproach; we had more than enough money for luxuries like this.

I checked the radar screen, making sure that my darlings were safely off in the air. "Not much, darling. Only twenty grand, or so." I said with a smile, turning to face her.

"Let me get this straight," she started, "you spent _twenty thousand dollars_ to convert this room into a control tower, to see off a plane that's going to be intentionally crashed." Alice laughed. "Did you pave a runway, too?" she added.

"That's right," I told her, trying my hardest to sound wounded. "Remember that one T.V. show we saw, with that cute hostage negotiator couple, where they had to deal with the crazy guy that took over the control tower of the airport? Well, I thought it would be fun."

"Well, at least you didn't go down to Seattle and force your way into their control tower," she laughed. "They'd probably put you on _Cops_ for that."

"Ooh," I said with a laugh. Alice knew that I devotedly watched _Cops_ every time that I could. I loved that show; watching slow humans get plowed down by burly police officers. "That'd be fun."

We laughed.

"How are the boys doing?" I asked her. Jasper and Emmett were out in the backyard, building a mausoleum for Bella and Edward. They thought that I was joking at first, because we were, sooner or later, going to have to move away. I asked them how thick they were – since Bella and Edward would _be with us_!

"They weren't happy when you told them they had to go down to the quarry," Alice admitted. "Something about making them run with ten tons of stone, then carve it out by hand."

"Oh, please," I laughed, "they're plenty strong enough to carry the marble, and carving it out would be like finger-painting to them. I'll probably even join them for that. Are you sure they're vampires?" I added, a smile on my lips.

"They thought with the new air-traffic control room that you could just have somebody bring it in on a chopper."

"Before anybody knows that the kids are dead? How would that look?" I asked.

"I didn't say they were geniuses, Esme. They were just griping. I don't think they really mind all that much."

"That's my boys," I smiled. Everything with the Cullen coven was a family effort. That's what made things great for us. So much better than … before. I was lucky to have them.

--

I heard a thud in the backyard, something like an earthquake. "The boys must be back," I said. I hung up the radio headset which found its way around my neck, and left the room, with Alice's spiky head at my shoulder. I walked into the room across the hall, and looked out the back window.

The boys were carrying a huge, ornate mausoleum on their fingertips. They had, apparently, taken it upon themselves to carve it out before carrying it over.

"Well," I told Alice, "Doesn't it look nice? I guess they do have some artistic skills."

"That would be Jasper," Alice told her, half laughing. "He has a whole art studio in our house in Alaska. He's attempting to keep it hidden from everybody else; he didn't exactly have a choice with me finding out," Alice laughed.

I laughed. That just seemed so _not_ Jasper. I knocked twice on the window, and gave the boys a thumbs-up.

**Just a short little bit of fun. More coming soon :)  
**


	3. Finding Out

It was two days later when we finally received news of our children's "death". A sleek, black Fiat pulled in front of our house. I was working in front of the house, and Carlisle, newly returned from Canada, was working at the hospital.

Out of that gorgeous car came a gorgeous Mountie … well, okay, he was no Carlisle, not by a long shot. but gorgeous for a human, I guess; and that outfit, the red and black regalia that I thought existed only in the movies, and the wide brimmed hat that he perched over iron grey hair didn't suit him very well, but…

Anyway, he got out of the car, and walked over to where I was standing (hopefully not drooling), and asked "Mrs. Carlisle Cullen?" He pulled a square of black leather out of his pocket, and flipped it open to reveal a badge and an identification card. "Franklin Montpelier, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I'm afraid I've got some bad news, eh?"

Now, I know that I should have been looking sad and distraught and all, but I smiled. So Canadians really did say 'eh'. I thought it was just a rumor; a rumor that'd been going around since I was a kid. "What's happened?" I asked, trying to force a look of concern on my face.

"Two days ago, a plane flying out of Forks International Airport -- I guess that's here," he said, his eyes fixed upon the sign that the boys threw together; spray paint on plywood. "anyway, that plane, designation Cessna 599, sent in a Mayday call at -- hold on," He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a notebook. "At 13:14 and 22 seconds. Again, that was two days ago. Apparently, the plane was in distress, and crashed into a heavily forested area of British Columbia. Emergency services reported a call from --" he looked at the notebook again, "--Agent Rose Hale, with your F.B.I. Agent Hale tried to get the victims out of the plane, but it was… it was a lost cause, eh. I just spoke with your husband at the hospital, my partner and I, we, err … brought the remains back to the hospital. Your husband confirmed that they were your daughter-in-law and your son. I'm so very sorry," he added.

I almost snorted. Agent Rose Hale … how funny. I didn't think anybody would fall for that joke of hers, but I guess it's easy to pretend to be a Federal Agent. I owed Rosalie five-hundred dollars now, I was so sure that nobody'd believe her.

But I didn't snort. Instead, I did what I'd rehearsed. I closed my eyes and … _Jamie saved my life… I'll always miss her. But our love is like the wind. I can't see it, but I can feel it…_There. Now I was crying, or at least I had tears poking out of my eyes. I knew that movie was good for something.

The Mountie looked uncomfortable; I could tell that he wasn't used to things like this. I guess he spent more time shooting bears than delivering bad news. "I'm …err… sorry, Mrs. Cullen. Your husband said that I should bring you down to the hospital if you needed to talk to him. He said he was going to finish his shift."

"No, no, I'm fine," I assured him, wiping the tears out of my eyes. "Has anybody told Chief Swan yet? He is my daughter-in-law's father."

"My partner went to see him, after we visited your husband." he told me.

"Oh, Sweet Jesus, I hope he doesn't take it bad."

"Maybe you should go and comfort him, eh?" he asked tentatively, as though he wasn't sure of what to say.

"Just let me go break the news to my kids, first," I said, with a sigh.

--

"Try to look sad in case the Mountie comes back here," I told the boys, who were diligently working in the mausoleum, making it look like it had been there for eternity and a half. The boys had carved into the marble floor various names, followed by the surname Cullen and two different years.

They didn't hear me, they were arguing, as usual.

"We shouldn't have gotten marble, it will weather very easily," Emmett was saying.

"Who cares?" Jasper replied, "it's not like there's actually anybody in here."

"Still, it's … what's that word? _Non sequitur_, you know. It doesn't make sense. People are going to think that it's weird."

"Whatever," Jasper snapped back, "People already think that we're weird. Just start carving some more names. Put Uncle Aro over here, next to Aunt Jane." He whipped his finger through the stone, and created another fictional Cullen, engraved in an Olde English script.

I laughed. "Looks excellent, boys! I didn't know you were such an artist, Jasper."

Jasper looked up from his work and scowled. "So Alice told you." The words were flat, like some big, huge secret was out.

"Anyway, I have to go break the news to Charlie. Be good." And I left them to their argument, with a smile.


	4. Telling Charlie

I rode with the Mountie to Charlie Swan's house, since I didn't want to take Alice's Giant Cat car out of the garage. As we pulled out of the drive, he hit a switch and a blue, two-tone siren turned on, cutting it's way through the non-existent Forks traffic.

We were at Charlie's house about two lifetimes before I was ready to be. Thankfully, I looked distraught, according to the mirror. My hair was messy and I looked pale and sick. Perfect.

A big, hulking police officer who's name I didn't know was standing outside Charlie's door, with two black bands across his badge. As soon as he saw me, he said, "Come right in, Mrs. Cullen," and he pulled me into a big bear hug. And didn't let go for about two minutes. "Charlie's been hoping that you'd come and visit. He's lost his mind."

"We all have," I told him, my voice a quiet titter. "I don't know how Carlisle's able to keep working right now. And the kids … oh goodness, the kids." I sighed and shook my head.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "If you need anything, me and Annette are here for you. The rest of Forks, too."

"Thank you," I said, trying to sound sincere.

I swear, I should be getting a Best Actress nomination for this show I was putting on. I pushed open the door and entered the house.

It was a qualified disaster zone. I'm not a psychologist or anything, but I could tell that Charlie had gone through the 'anger' stage of mourning. There were several holes in the wall, some of them fist-sized; others, bullet-sized.

"Esme!" A raspy-voiced man cried. Oh, my God, it was Charlie. He looked so terrible, it took a moment to recognize him. It looked like he had literally fallen apart at the seams.

The guilt kicked in immediately. We were taking his daughter away from him. My resolve almost wavered. I wanted to tell him that Bella, his precious daughter, was alive and well (though probably in a world of pain right now).

"Charlie… I'm so sorry," I carefully wrapped my arms around him, and let him cry. Was this the same, cocky Chief Swan that bashed out my taillight a few years ago? "You know," I told him, "the kids aren't really dead… they're gone forever, but they aren't dead. You have to believe that, Charlie."

"Yeah, yeah, Father Clark talked to me, too." he replied. "I just can't believe that I'm not going to see my Bells again. And so soon after her wedding, too. Renee… Renee thought I was kidding around with her. She just couldn't believe it."

"Charlie… I don't want you to worry about anything, okay? Carlisle… Carlisle and I will pay for everything, okay."

"No," he said, sounding adamant. "You just paid for the wedding. My retirement money…"

"No, Charlie. You save that money. We'll take care of everything. I'll call Renee and Phil, and I'll wire them money for plane tickets."

"I don't want you to," Charlie said. "If you could afford it, you wouldn't be living in Forks." He sounded like a man that had proven something beyond doubt.

I laughed, a dry and lifeless laugh. "Charlie, Charlie … Carlisle and I spent our life savings on Microsoft stock back in the late '70s when it was a dollar a share. We have more than you think. Everything is taken care of." That was the excuse that Carlisle and I agreed on.

"The service … the casket … the tomb … the grave site." He stammered, the words coming out of his mouth like boulders that stubbed his tongue as they rolled past.

"All taken care of, down to the flowers," I assured him. "And I hope you don't mind, but we were planning on burying them together … in the family crypt. Everybody in the Cullen family since Great-Grandma Ada came west is buried there. You'd be able to visit any time you want, of course."

"Bells would have liked that," Charlie told me, "She really would have."

"Oh, I'm so, so, so sorry to put you through this, Charlie," I told him. "I just feel so bad about all of this."

"It's not … it's not your fault, I guess." Charlie enunciated the last two words with a struggle. "I should have never let Bells on that plane. What was I thinking?"

--

It would be a hard week.


	5. Bye, Bye, Bella

It was on a cold and rainy-looking day that my children, Edward and Isabella Cullen were buried.

We were in the yard behind my house, sitting in the same chairs that we used for their wedding. Except that day was sunny and almost too bright for us 'cold ones' to come outside. But it stayed overcast just long enough. No worries about that today.

I sat in the front row, on the right side, my entwined with Carlisle's. We were trying our hardest to look distraught. Well,_** I**_ was trying my hardest; Carlisle always looks distraught. He was worrying whether he'd left Edward and Bella enough morphine to get through the transformation without too much pain.

Everybody in Forks and La Push had been invited to the funeral, and the seats were almost full when the minister started to speak. A few minutes in, two people arrived. I almost fainted when I saw who it was, and even more, what he was wearing.

Aro, holding Jane's hand, walked down the isle. Jane was wearing a Dorothy-pattern, blue and white checkered dress and a huge scowl on her face, and Aro was wearing… well, he made it shockingly clear that he hadn't left Volturra in a long, _long_ time. He was wearing a short, flat, wide-brimmed hat, a long traveling cloak, a white suit with a tweed vest, and a walking stick. He approached Carlisle and me, and we stood up to hug him. As his hand made contact with me, I thought of Edward and Bella, telling him the truth.

"I thought so," Aro said happily, a playful smile on his lips. He clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "That makes things a lot better than I expected."

"Quebec," Carlisle told him, in a bare whisper. "I think they're planning to stay on their own for the first year or so."

"Wonderful!" Aro exclaimed. "I'm so glad that we have another addition to the vampire world. I can't wait to see what her, ah, talent will be! Maybe she'll consider joining our guard… as well as the rest of you."

Carlisle sighed and shook his head. Aro never would get it, would he?

--

All in all, it was a cute service. Closed casket, of course, because it was about to pour, and frankly, there wasn't much to show.

Lots of flowers. Lilacs, lilies, chrysanthemums, carnations, primrose, violets, and 20,001 white roses -- that girl must have been trying to outdo my wedding, which -- in addition to having been held in Saint Peter's Basilica, one of the largest churches in the world, completely empty except for me, Carlisle, and the pope -- was covered with roses, sent courtesy of the Volturi -- or more precisely, Aro.

Alice, who, of course, designed the who show, (because Bella would have wanted it that way, she said), had insisted on plain, white caskets that the kids could sign with permanent markers. As soon as Rosalie finished her tearjerking speech that Alice must have written, the kids, many of whom I recognized from the graduation party we threw, came up to sign it. One of the Indian boys, who I think was one of the werewolves, too, left half of his unpublished novel on Bella's. Rosalie drew matching long-stemmed roses in gold ink; that made all of the women in the crowd cry even more.

I think Charlie summed it up best. As everybody went up to the house to partake of the several feasts provided by the middle-aged women of the town, he went up to her coffin and wrote, in large, block letters, "BYE, BYE, BELLA."

**So that's it. I really hoped you liked the story; the longest story I've written to date. I'm sorry that the funeral part was so short, but I just kind of hit a block with it. As always, don't be afraid to point out any mistakes, whether grammatical or canon-related. Yes, Esme is slightly more "desperate housewives-ish" than canon, but it was funny, kinda, wasn't it?**

**Also, a couple of notes. What Aro is wearing is something like a cross between a suit I saw on a picture of J.R.R. Tolkien (I wish I could find it again) and Dudley Dursley's Smeltings Uniform that is described in the Harry Potter novels (Philosopher's Stone, I think, but don't hold me to it). Also, those coffins that can be written on do exist, and yes, I know about them because my heroine was buried in one.**


End file.
